


Running Away (together)

by Squishmitten



Series: Wolfeshead Island [1]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, Chickens, Discussions of death, F/F, Fluff, Oh no I may have given away the mystery in the tags ;), Olive Oil, bed sharing, canon angst, nothing graphic, typical Bernie gay panic, who is the mystery woman?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-03 12:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishmitten/pseuds/Squishmitten
Summary: Bernie likes her life. She keeps herself to herself and it suits her just fine. The storm the night before has washed something ashore that may just change that. Forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **In which we meet Bernie and Jason.**
> 
>  
> 
> I’m a fic virgin, so please be gentle with me!

Bernie was on her quad bike, doing the rounds of the island, checking for damage. The storm the previous night had been a wild one and she had wanted to make sure the fences, outbuildings, and more importantly, the somewhat rickety old dock had survived. It would have been her own fault for procrastinating if the dock had been washed away by the fierce winds and whipping sea. It had been in need of replacing for a while now, and the makeshift repairs she had managed would only go so far. It was the thought of so much disruption to her solitary life that had held her back. Since her retreat to Wolfeshead Island two years ago, Bernie had kept her interactions with the outside world to a bare minimum and the prospect of people on the island made her a bit twitchy. 

So far, so good. The dock had survived this time, but with another huge weather front rapidly approaching, all she could do was keep her fingers crossed. The diesel for the generator was running low and, already delayed by the weather, who knew when the delivery would finally be able to get through. If the dock wasn’t useable to offload the fuel, things could get a bit difficult. It was definitely time to bite the bullet and look into getting a new one built as soon as possible. It was also time to invest in setting up renewable energy sources as well. Having read about Eigg, a small island near Skye, now being run on 90-95% renewable energy, Bernie was excited by the potential of significantly reducing her reliance on diesel. God knows it was windy enough on her tiny island that a wind turbine or two should surely be more than enough for her and Jason’s modest needs. 

It was as though thinking about Jason conjured him up, as a volley of barking started up ahead of Bernie. What was it this time, putting a seagull in its place? Jason was a huge softie, but loved to act the macho guard dog when he spotted the local wildlife. 

“Jason come here boy! Leave it alone. Jason!” Bernie called.

The usually obedient dog ignored Bernie’s call and continued to bark.  
As Bernie got a little closer, she could see Jason in the distance, barking at something by the water’s edge. Was it a grey seal on the beach? They weren’t too common in the area, but perhaps the storm could have brought one to shore. 

“Oh no!” 

As Bernie drew nearer to Jason, she could see that what he was barking at was no grey seal, unless a seal had somehow decided to add to its natural buoyancy with an orange hi-vis life jacket. She pulled to a halt, swore quietly to herself then slowly and carefully proceeded down the slope towards the narrow strip of pebbly beach. As useful as the quad was for getting around the island, Bernie was all too aware of how dangerous they could be and generally preferred to stick to level ground. 

Bernie drew to a halt beside an excited Jason and the huddled figure at the water’s edge. She climbed off of the quad and knelt beside the unconscious form. Without even realising it, Bernie fell right back into trauma surgeon mode, calling out her findings.

“Unconscious female, approximately late forties. No obvious immediate signs of injury.” She gently opened her patient’s eyelids. “Pupils appear equal and reactive. Pulse is a little slow, and showing some signs of arrhythmia. She is very, very cold. I need to get her warmed up ASAP.” 

Bernie sat back on her heels, wondering exactly how she was going to get an unconscious, hypothermic woman onto the quad bike. She had a horrible feeling this wouldn't end well. 

“Here goes nothing.” 

She squatted by the woman, pulled her into a sitting position, grabbed her around the waist and surged to her feet with her patient in a pretty successful approximation of a fireman’s lift. Staggering slightly as the uneven, stony surface shifted beneath her feet, Bernie just managed to stay upright. She grabbed the handlebars of the quad bike to steady herself and managed to swing her leg over the saddle. With the woman draped half over herself and half over the fuel tank in front of her, Bernie could just about see where she was going.

“Come on Jason, home!” she called out, as she slowly manoeuvred the bike to head back along the shingle the way she had come. There was a much shallower gradient to get back up onto the path back near the dock and she really wanted to get them both back indoors in one piece. 

“Imagine surviving a boating accident in a raging storm, managing to wash up on a tiny island rather than drift past it, and getting discovered before you succumb to hypothermia, only to be crushed to death by a clumsy idiot crashing her quad.. That would be an irony worthy of Alanis Morissette Jason, don't you think?” Jason whuffed in response as he trotted along behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In which Bernie makes the mysterious stranger more comfortable.**

Having made the trip back to the house without disaster striking, Bernie was then faced with trying to negotiate the tricky manoeuvre of getting the limp figure off of the quad and indoors. Keeping her grip on the handlebars and her arms around the other woman, Bernie managed to swivel her hips enough to swing her leg back across the saddle. 

“Ooof, I’m going to pay for that one later. I’m definitely not as young and limber as I used to be.” 

Settling her patient as squarely back across her shoulder as possible, she entered the house and headed directly through into the living room. She laid the still figure gently in front of the fire then straightened up.

“Right Wolfe, it’s been a while, but hypothermia. Wet clothing off, dry and warm her up, then hot drinks and sugar as soon as consciousness returns. Okay, here we go.” 

Her deployments over the last 15 years of her Army career had been spent almost exclusively in the heat, dust and sand of desert environments. However, during the first ten, Bernie had spent her fair share of time in the harsh winters of the former Yugoslavia, Bosnia and Kosovo. There had been many a time when a patient being hypothermic was actually beneficial, as a sluggish circulatory system could help slow catastrophic bleeding enough to get them patched up.

With a plan of action decided upon, Bernie got to work. Throwing several logs on the fire, she stoked up the embers to get a good blaze going, before going through into the kitchen. She repeated her actions in there, adding a couple of logs to the wood burning range before filling the kettle and putting it on the stove top. Next she trotted upstairs in search of towels and warm bedding. 

Returning to the living room, and dumping her armful of blankets and towels on the hearth rug, Bernie knelt next to the unconscious woman. First things first, the life jacket was unsnapped and thrown off to one side. Instinct almost had Bernie reaching for scissors to cut off the rest of the clothing, but she hesitated a moment. Looking down at the woman in front of her, it was clear that not a great deal of clothing that Bernie owned would fit once she was back on her feet. She was clearly quite curvaceous, whereas Bernie was skinny, with an almost boyish figure. No, it would be better to undress her. 

She made short work of stripping the layers of wet clothing from the woman in front of her. It would seem that all the times she had dragged the uniforms off of drunken Army comrades before depositing them on their bunks hadn’t been in vain. Bernie huffed out a laugh at that thought. Another useful skill her Army career had provided, and not one she had ever expected to make use of again.

Looking her patient over, Bernie could see no visible injuries, no cuts and only a few small superficial bruises. She got to work with a towel, vigorously rubbing the skin to try and help stimulate the blood flow to the chilled extremities. Bernie then laid several layers of blankets on the shivering, prone figure. The shivering was a welcome sign that she was beginning to warm up. Her pulse was improved too, strong and steady now, with no sign of the slight arrhythmia of before. 

Straightening up with a groan, she went through to the kitchen, and rummaged in a cupboard until she found what she was looking for - a couple of hot water bottles. The kettle was steaming away on the stove by now, so Bernie made short work of filling the bottles. Back in the living room, she pulled the cushions from the sofa and laid them out to create a makeshift bed on the hearth rug directly in front of the crackling fire. Grabbing the mummy style sleeping bag she had crawled out of early that morning, Bernie unzipped it as far as it would go, draped it on the cushions and laid one of the hot water bottles down inside at the foot end. 

Bernie then gently picked up the other woman and laid her on the sleeping bag, put the other hot water bottle on her stomach, then zipped her into the bag and laid the blankets on top.

Stooping to gather up the discarded clothing, Bernie winced and groaned. As she had expected, her back was already shouting in protest at some of that morning’s activities. While she was as fit and strong as she had been in years, unfortunately there was no denying that she was getting older or that she was still paying the price for the events of two and a half years ago. 

“We’ve done about all we can for now. It’s just a matter of waiting and letting her warm up. I had also better find myself a change of clothes. Clutching mystery women washed up from the sea to oneself is a bit of a damp business. I also don’t know about you Jason, but I really need a cup of tea!”

Not hearing the usual click of claws behind her on the flagstone floor, she looked around. Jason was laying down alongside their unexpected house guest, gazing at her, his massive head on his front paws.

“I see, it’s like that is it? The moment there’s a beautiful woman on the island, you’re all over her! Oh I don’t blame you boy, I do not blame you one little bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The physical description of Bernie’s figure is meant to be entirely Bernie’s own POV and is not an opinion shared by the author!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which the mysterious stranger awakes...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I clearly have terrible impulse control.  
> I wasn’t going to post chapter three for at least another couple of days, but here we are.
> 
> I think this is the point I have to warn you that from here on in the story becomes quite dialogue heavy.

“Why is there a bloody great wolf lying on me?”

The velvety voice startled Bernie out of her light doze and she leapt up. Jason had his huge head resting on the midriff of their unexpected guest.

“He.. he’s a malamute. Jason, come here and leave the lady alone.”

Jason ignored Bernie, clearly smitten with his new friend.

“Jason? Interesting name for a wolf.”

“Malamute. And he’s named after a Blue Peter pet from my childhood. Jason! Bed! NOW!” 

Jason knew that tone wasn’t to be ignored and slunk off to the kitchen, throwing what could only really be described as a reproachful look over his shoulder. 

“Blue Peter.. Hang on, wasn’t Jason a _cat_? I’m sure I remember Jason being a cat. What’s your cat called, Petra? Shep?”

“Yes, Blue Peter’s Jason was a cat, but I was desperate for a pet of any kind as a very young child and vowed as soon as I could have one that I would name it Jason no matter what. I don’t have a cat. Only Jason. Oh and chickens, none of whom have names.”

“You waited until you were in your.. I’m going to guess forties, to get a pet. And decided on a wolf. And called it Jason. After a cat.” 

Before Bernie could respond, the mystery woman continued, “Am I dreaming? Or maybe hallucinating? Who the hell are you? Where the hell am I, and why the hell can’t I move?” She was clearly becoming agitated.

Bernie took a deep breath, “He’s an Alaskan malamute, it’s like an extra large husky. I’m 52 and waited until I was 50 to get a pet, because my lifestyle wasn’t conducive to pet ownership until then. You’re on Wolfeshead Island, I’m Maj… I mean I’m Bernie Wolfe, I don’t think you’re hallucinating because you appear to be quite rational and you can’t move because you’re wrapped up in a sleeping bag. Or at least I hope that the only reason you can’t move. I had better take a look.”

At that, Bernie dropped to her knees beside the other woman and pulled off the pile of blankets. She reached for the zip at the side of the sleeping bag.

“Woah there, hang on just a moment! I appear to be naked. Why am I naked, in a sleeping bag, on the floor in a complete stranger’s house?” A sharp note of panic had entered her voice. Bernie shifted backwards and held up her hands in a placatory gesture.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m Bernie and I’m a doctor, this is my island and I found you this morning, unconscious on the beach. I can only assume your boat was caught up in last night’s storm. You’re naked because your clothes were soaked through, you were hypothermic and I needed to get you dry and warmed up. You’re on the floor because in front of this fireplace is currently the warmest spot in the house. How about I undo the zip and turn away, then you can tell me if you can move your limbs normally? I am a doctor as I said, so if anything at all feels wrong tell me and I can take a look. Is that alright?”

“You own the island?” 

Bernie sighed. “Yes, it’s been in the family for generations. Look.. why don’t I unzip you, then I’ll go and make us a cup of tea while you check everything is in working order. Then we can have a chat and introduce ourselves properly. Okay?”

“Serena Campbell. Considering you’ve seen me in the buff, you should at the very least know my name, don’t you think? Now go and get that tea made, I like it good and strong with ‘two and a coo’ as they say around here. Go on, I’m parched!”

At that, Bernie slowly moved closer, and after gently unzipping the sleeping bag, rose stiffly to her feet. “I’ll go and get the kettle boiled.”

Over the years, Serena had found herself in some, well let’s say, interesting situations. Many of those courtesy of best friend Siân and too much alcohol.. However, she had never before woken naked in a stranger’s house with no recollection of how she got there. The same couldn’t be said for Siân. On several occasions, now she came to think about it. 

With the zip on the confining sleeping bag having been released, Serena stretched and flexed her limbs gingerly. Other than feeling like each and every muscle in her body was aching, everything seemed to be in full working order. Considering the fact she had been swimming for her life in stormy seas the previous night, she was doing okay. Not too bad for an old bird, eh Campbell?

Serena heard an awkward and hesitant throat clearing and hastily covered herself. 

“Umm.. I’ve brought you a couple of things I thought you could wear, uh…”

“Serena.”

“Sorry, yes. Serena.. Umm.. well we have rather different body types obviously. As I’m built like a teenaged boy after a particularly vigorous growth spurt, and you’re.. well ummm.. I’m afraid with the best will in the world, that I have nothing for your.. umm.. lower half. I’ve got a t-shirt and a nice thick jumper here for you, plus some thermal socks, but I think you’re going to have to make do with a blanket or towel around your waist for the time being.”

“What happened to my clothes?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just they’re still soaking wet. Your base layer shouldn’t take too long to dry, so you should have your er, underwear and long johns back in the morning, but your jeans are going to take quite a while.”

“You don’t have a tumble dryer?”

“Uh, no I don’t, but even if I did, power is in short supply right now. Diesel level is getting low, so I’m running the genny as little as possible. Anyway, I’ll go and see about that tea.” 

At that, Bernie awkwardly plonked a bundle of material on the rug next to Serena and scuttled out of the room. Watching her go, Serena couldn’t help but think that no teenaged boy could have an arse like that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue Peter, for anyone not in the know, is a BBC children’s TV programme that has run since 1958. Something that featured regularly on the programme were the resident pets, the first of which was a dog called Petra. Often dogs, (the main ones from my childhood were Shep and Goldie) there were also cats and tortoises. When this story insisted on Bernie’s dog being called Jason, I vaguely remembered there had been a Blue Peter pet called Jason. This being years before my Blue Peter watching days, I hadn’t initially realised it was a cat.. but I decided to run with it anyway! 
> 
> Again, Bernie’s description of her figure is her own opinion and very much NOT mine!
> 
> Lastly, ‘two and a coo’ is basically milk and two sugars. I pinched the phrase from author Stuart MacBride and sought the blessing of a Scotswoman to use it ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which Serena makes friends with Jason.**

Donning her makeshift new outfit made Serena feel a little better, even with nothing more than a fluffy bath towel wrapped around her waist in lieu of a proper garment. She sat in one of the battered armchairs that was pulled up close to the hearth. Running her hands through her silvery hair, she grimaced. It felt awful, matted and stiff with salt. Well, better a bad hair day than the alternative. She shivered a little at the thought of how close she must have come to disaster.

Bernie re-entered the room, mug in hand and Jason hot on her heels.

“Here you go Serena, strong, hot and sweet.”

“Ooh, that’s just how I like it. Thank you. I’m afraid I failed to pay proper attention, I know you told me your name, but what with the wol.. er Jason I mean, and the nudity, I didn’t take it in.”

“Bernie. I’m Bernie. Here, I have some chocolate for you too.” 

“Tea and chocolate, you do know the way to a woman’s heart Bernie. Make it a glass of decent Shiraz and it would have been top marks!” 

“So Serena, we need to talk about how you came to be washed up on the island. You were out in a boat I assume? Alone? And someone knew you were out?”

“Yes I was alone, and yes Beth Anderson my practice manager knew I was out in the boat and where I was meant to be going. I’m the new GP at the Logan Street practice in town. I was meant to be helping deliver a baby. A nervous new mum and the baby decided to start making an appearance a couple of weeks early. I do hope she’s okay, although there was no reason she shouldn’t be, the pregnancy had all been perfectly routine. She was going to stay with her aunt on the mainland from next week to prevent exactly what happened last night. I did check the weather report and it seemed safe enough to travel across to St Agnes to see to her.”

“Yes, I think that storm must have taken quite a few people by surprise. Right, I’ll get on the radio and let people know you’re here and you’re safe. We don’t want the coast guard out searching unnecessarily when you’re safe and sound. Who shall I ask them to let know that you’re okay? Husband and kids?”

Serena’s face fell and her jaw clenched and she wondered if that particular question would ever get easier to hear. She swallowed and cleared her throat.

“N..no kids. I’m a fully paid up member of the embittered ex-wives club too, so no, there’s no husband, no wife, no significant other to worry about me. Beth Anderson should probably be told, so she can try to arrange locum cover if nothing else. That’s about it. When can I get back over to the mainland? I’m guessing not today?”

“I'm sorry, no. There’s another huge weather front due that will probably reach us any time and so I’m afraid we’re going nowhere for a while. I’ll just go and contact the coast guard now.”

Serena looked round to see Jason sitting gazing at her with his pale brown eyes. He sighed and laid his chin on the arm of the chair. Serena put her mug down on the side table and tentatively reached out a hand to stroke the dog’s head. His fur was just as thick and soft as it looked. He gave a little moan and leaned into Serena’s touch.

“I think he’s claimed you as his own. Finders keepers, etcetera.” 

Bernie had re-entered the room, mug in hand.

“He found me?” Serena dug her fingers into the thick fur of Jason’s neck and he panted in delight.

“He did. I was out checking for storm damage and Jason started barking. I thought at first he was doing his usual - he likes to let any wildlife he sees know who’s boss. He’ll normally come away from a sea bird or whatever when I call him though, but this time he was having none of it. You’re lucky, I might not have noticed you on that stretch of the waterline otherwise, in spite of your life jacket.”

“Tell me you didn’t strap me to his back and have him drag me home!”

At this, a truly unexpected sound emerged from Bernie’s mouth.. It was the most extraordinary, raucous _honk_ of a laugh that Serena had ever heard. The sound was uninhibited and completely glorious.

“Ha! No, it was far more prosaic than that I’m afraid. I hitched you over my shoulder and somehow managed not to kill us both getting you here on my quad bike.”

“My goodness, you must be strong. I’m certainly no lightweight.” 

Serena felt slightly breathless at the thought of being gathered up like that in Bernie’s arms. Such a shame she had been unconscious throughout. Looking across, she was sure she could see a blush creeping up from the neck of Bernie’s jumper, and her ears were definitely going red.

“Don’t be silly Serena. I’ve hauled around a ton of hairy squaddies in my time, and you’re like.. like a feather in comparison.”

Serena raised a shapely eyebrow at this statement.

“A ton of squaddies? Was this on a professional basis, or merely as a hobby? Oh, and I’m not entirely sure that ‘Well at least you weigh less than the average soldier’ is entirely a compliment either!” 

Bernie’s blush deepened and she wrung her fingers together nervously.

“You know what I meant, it was no effort to lift you.” She hesitated before adding, “I... well I was in the military, hence the soldiers. I served with the RAMC for 25 years.”

At this Bernie went quiet and seemed to withdraw into herself. Jason pulled away from Serena, moved across the room and laid his head on Bernie’s knee. He looked up at her and made a grumbling sound. This seemed to snap her out of wherever it was that she had mentally retreated to. She laid a hand on Jason’s head, then abruptly stood.

“We’d better get you fed. I won’t be long.” 

And with that, Bernie strode out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, you have no idea how difficult it was for:
> 
>  
> 
> _“Here you go Serena, strong, hot and sweet.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Ooh, that’s just how I like it.”_
> 
>  
> 
> Not to become:
> 
>  
> 
> _“Here you go Serena, strong, hot and sweet.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Ooh, that’s just how I like my women too!”_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which our ladies start to get to know one another a little better and Bernie is revealed as a bit of a whizz in the kitchen.**
> 
> I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but a lack of self control got the better of me once again.  
> Let’s consider it a celebration of the the fact that it is now officially only two weeks until the sublime goddess that is Serena Campbell returns to Holby.

Serena was slightly taken aback by Bernie’s sudden retreat. ‘It would seem she has a bit of a sore spot there’ she thought, ‘but then again, don’t we all have our vulnerabilities?’ 

So Bernie was ex Army then. Serena couldn't help but picture her, camouflage clad. Well, that was new. She had never considered herself to have even the slightest uniform kink. However, there was just something about the thought of the tall, quiet blonde in a khaki vest and combats, with shiny boots, maybe throwing her to the ground and shielding her from danger, pressed along the length of her.. “Christ, Campbell, that's enough! Pull yourself together!” She muttered to herself.

She realised that evening had begun to fall and the room was starting to descend into gloom. A long reach lighter beside the hearth caught her eye and after tightening her bath towel ‘skirt’, Serena began to light some of the fat white candles that were dotted around the small living room.

“Ah, thank you, I was just going to do that. Are you ready for something to eat?”

Serena jumped, as she was startled by the sudden reappearance of her hostess.

“Can you wear louder shoes please!”

Bernie just looked down at her sock clad feet and smirked. Serena huffed and rolled her eyes.

“You know what I meant. Yes please, I would love something to eat, I’m famished. All this surviving the icy depths, being a damsel in distress and being rescued by.. by big macho army medics does seem to stimulate the appetite.” 

She winked at the other woman who blushed and turned away. Serena smiled to herself - even if nothing else in her life had, her ability to flirt shamelessly clearly remained unscathed. 

As Serena was pondering whether to go and offer a helping hand in the kitchen, Bernie came back through with a tray in her hands.

“Here we go. Take a seat.” 

Serena sat at the tiny table tucked away in the corner as Bernie placed two delicious smelling bowls down, followed by a plate piled with bread and butter.

“Oh my goodness, that smells amazing!” Serena groaned, as her stomach growled loudly, clearly stimulated by the savoury aroma.

“Umm, well it’s only a bit of soup, I hope it’s okay. I’m still fairly new at the whole cooking from scratch thing and… well, I suppose you’re a bit of a guinea pig to be honest. My only other food critic has been Jason, and let’s face it, he’s happy enough to lick his own-”

“Yes, yes, thank you. I get the picture!” Serena intervened.

Taking a tentative spoonful of the steaming soup, Serena hummed in delighted appreciation.

“Oh Bernie, this is lovely. Absolutely delicious.” 

Bernie gave a small but delighted smile and dipped into her own bowl. 

“There’s plenty left if you want seconds. The bread is homemade too. It’s only soda bread because I didn’t have the time for all the kneading and proving today. What with the damsel rescuing.” Bernie smiled, shyly.

“Oh god, and she bakes too! I don’t suppose you can exactly pop to Sainsbury’s for a loaf, living out here. You said earlier that you own the island? How did that come about?”

“Personally, my father left it to me in his will. However, how exactly it came to be in the family, I'm not too sure. There was an ancestral Wolfe in the dim and distant past who somehow acquired the deeds in perpetuity. My parents could never tell me if the island was bought, stolen or gifted. But however this ancestor came by the ownership, he proceeded, in a not at _all_ vain fashion, to name it Wolfeshead Island.”

“Maybe it was status thing, like the equivalent of the personalised number plate back then. Anyway, more to the point, does this make you some kind of noble woman? Should I be curtsying, M’lady?”

Bernie chuckled “Nope, plain old Bernie will do the trick, and no obeisance is required either, thank you!”

“It must have been a challenge to even get out here before the advent of powered boats. I pity the poor servants who had to row Sir Whatsit Wolfe all this way! How far are we from the mainland by the way?”

“About 10 kilometres.”

“And what’s that in English? I can cope with grams and kilograms in cooking, centimetres and even meters, but I still struggle with metric distances. It’s terrible really, when you consider the amount of time I've spent in France over the years.”

“It’s approximately 6 miles. It generally takes about 1 to 2 hours in my boat, depending on weather, tide and of course, how heavily laden I am. The trip back is always slower because I’m bringing home supplies.”

“How often do you get over? I've been in town for a couple of months now, but I've never seen you around. I think I would have remembered seeing.. seeing Jason” 

What she really wanted to say was that she would _definitely_ have remembered seeing that tangle of messy blonde hair atop one of the most beautiful faces she had ever laid eyes on. 

“I don’t often take Jason along. He does take up quite a lot of space, he sometimes gets a bit seasick and believe it or not, he’s quite shy too. I tend to leave him here unless it’s for a trip to the vet. How often I go to the mainland really depends. I try to keep trips to a minimum really. It's usually about every four to six weeks. I collect any post, buy whatever food I need. I grow my own veg here, keep chickens for eggs and sometimes for the pot. I also buy some things in enough bulk that they'll deliver, even this far out. But I do try to stay as self sufficient as I can really. I'm.. I'm not the most.. social of people, so it suits me, living out here.”

As she said this, something suddenly hit Bernie. Serena had not only been on the island, but in her _home_ most of the day. Certainly, the other woman had been unconscious for some of it, but even so. There had been another person in her home all this time and Bernie had felt none of the twitchy discomfort she usually experienced around people nowadays. For the first time in two and a half years, she actually felt at ease with another person.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which we begin to find out a little more about what brought both our ladies to Wolfeshead Island.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today on episode 6 of “Can Sarah Stick To Her Self-Imposed Posting Schedule?”  
> No.
> 
> What’s my excuse today? Happy Friday? Who knows. Who cares. Enjoy chapter 6 
> 
> ***Canon events will be discussed***
> 
> I’m new to the tagging game, so if you think I need to add something, shout at me either in the comments or on Tumblr (Squishmittenficfan) and I’ll fix it.

“So, coffee?” offered Bernie after they had both scraped their soup bowls clean.

“Oh god yes! I would love a cup please. Can I help with anything? The washing up?”

“I’ll be 100% honest with you, when I’m in energy conservation mode like this, I tend to save the washing up until the electricity is back on.” 

Serena narrowed her eyes. “Just how bad is the build up this time?”

“Ummm... Well, just a few bits. The odd plate, couple of pans, you know.”

“No, I don’t think so. Not while I’m here. Come on your ladyship, many hands make light work!”

 

****

 

Between them, the not inconsiderable amount of washing up was done, and some order restored to the kitchen. Bernie sent Serena back to sit down while she made the coffee.

“Brownie?”

“More homemade treats?”

Bernie nodded shyly, glancing at Serena through her messy fringe. Serena took a brownie from the proffered plate and bit into it. The moan that followed caused goosebumps to pop up on every inch of Bernie’s skin. 

“This is amazing, almost better than sex!” 

“A..almost?” 

Bernie blushed hotly when Serena just turned and dropped a slow wink at her. 

They had been sitting in companionable silence for a short while when Serena noticed the cigarette that Bernie was holding between her fingers.

“I think you’re meant to light it...”

“What? Oh this, no I don’t smoke. Not any more. Gave up a couple of years ago. I was rather forced to really. A long hospital stay plus the general incompatibility of freshly repaired spinal fractures, open heart surgery and a smoker’s cough. This fag is a symbol really, although I’m never too sure what of. Survival perhaps, or the fragility of life? This cigarette, the last one in the packet, made it back with me from Afghanistan. It survived an IED explosion, being airlifted back to the UK and being chucked in with my meagre belongings after they cut me out of my uniform. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“You were blown up? I...”

“Well, roadside IED, didn’t see it ‘til the last second, swerved to avoid the explosion, rolled and ended upside down in a poppy field.”

“I see, and then spinal and heart surgery?”

“Oh yes, a double whammy. Unstable C5/C6 fracture plus a traumatised cervical disc. If that wasn’t enough, to add insult to injury, I also had a right ventricular pseudoaneurysm. The CT and neuro surgeons at Holby City were both so busy with their pissing contest that I had to practically spoon feed them the solution. Bloody surgeons!”

“Oi, I’m a ‘bloody surgeon’ thank you very much. W..well... I… I was anyway.” Serena was suddenly subdued.

“Oh I was including myself in that, don’t you worry. Once upon a time I was Major Bernie Wolfe, trauma surgeon. These days I think I’m probably more commonly referred to as ‘that weirdo from the island with the big dog’”

“Hang on a moment, trauma surgeon? Are you Berenice Wolfe?”

“Guilty as charged I’m afraid.”

“My goodness, you have quite the reputation. One of the foremost frontline trauma surgeons in the country.”

“Once upon a time maybe, as I said… Once upon a time.”

“Why did you give it up? The NHS would surely have been more than happy to have you if the Army didn’t. In fact I’m almost surprised Hanssen wasn’t trying to recruit you as soon as you were out from under the anaesthetic.”

“I don’t know Serena, lost my nerve? Lost my drive? I was out of action for a long while. I didn’t bounce back from the surgery as quickly as I hoped, was walking with a stick for months. Endless scans and physio, I got sick of the sight of all things medical. A horrible irony for someone who was used to spending sometimes 16 hours or more a day in surgery, for days on end.”

Serena could relate all too well to that particular sentiment.

“The Army pensioned me off of course, so here I am. From ‘foremost frontline trauma surgeon’ to waste of space in the few moments it took for that jeep to go crashing off the road.”

“Hardly a waste of space, Bernie. Who was involved in the ‘pissing contest’? I’m going to guess Guy Self for neuro and Jac Naylor from CT?”

Bernie was confused. “No, no it was a registrar, Valentine.”

“Ollie.” At this, Serena’s eyes clouded over.

“That’s right, Oliver Valentine. I didn’t meet Naylor until afterwards. I don’t understand, how do you know these people? I know that Guy Self has a... A-ha, a self-promotional streak a mile wide, but still.”

“It really is a small world. I worked at Holby for several years. I ran the AAU - lead consultant and specialist in vascular surgery. I do remember there was a lot of buzz around the hospital about the heroic soldier being airlifted into the country. In fact, I think you would have met one of my team briefly. Raf Di Lucca? Young, Scottish, handsome?”

“I do remember a Scottish accent when I arrived, but as I was strapped to a backboard at the time, I can’t answer to the rest.”

Bernie suddenly noticed a tear sliding down the other woman’s cheek.

“Serena, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Such a waste. Such a _fucking_ waste!”

“I... I don’t understand.”

“Surely the shootings made the news, even all the way up here?”

“I avoid the news these days. The world is going to shit and I’ve heard enough about it to last me a lifetime. Shootings though? What the hell happened?”

Serena swallowed thickly and clasped her shaking hands together.

“I don’t know much more than was reported in the media. A..a gunman, Fredrik Johanssen, shot three people, killing one of them, before armed police shot him dead. Raf Di Lucca was..he was..the..the fatality. Jac Naylor was shot in the back but as far as I know is recovering well and no doubt sheer bloody-mindedness will see her back at work in no time. Oliver Valentine was shot in the head. The last I heard, they had failed to remove bullet fragments and he was suffering with significant cognitive difficulties. As if all that wasn’t bad enough, Fredrik Johanssen was a surgeon himself, and the son of Henrik Hanssen, Holby CEO and personal friend.”

 

“Serena, my god, were you there on the day? You must have been terrified.”

“No, I was... I was away at the time. Like I said, I know little outside the media reports. I think he had some kind of a history of depression, but to do what he did? It can’t just be dismissed out of hand as mental illness, that’s for certain. I just don’t understand it.”

“25 years in the military, in various war zones around the world, and never once was I able to understand what drives people to violence. I’ve seen countless acts of bravery and the aftermath of horrible tragedies. Human nature continues to baffle me, Serena. I think that might be part of why I find myself uncomfortable around people now. At least I know exactly where I stand with Jason.”

At this, Jason’s ears pricked up and he panted happily at Bernie, who buried her face in his soft fur.

“On that note, do you think it's time we got some sleep? It’s been a long day.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted. I’ll leave you to it.” Bernie rose from her chair.

“Wait a minute, you said earlier that this was the warmest place in the house, did you not? Where on Earth are you going?”

“I’ll bunk down in the kitchen by the range. It’ll be warm enough.”

“Don’t be silly. We’ll take the cushions off of the chairs and add them to the ones in front of the fire. There’ll be plenty of room, plus this way we can both benefit from the blankets. It makes much better sense than dividing them between us. No arguments!” She added in her best ‘consultant talking to novice F1’ voice, as she could see Bernie getting ready to object.

Bernie had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which Bernie has a backache**

As Bernie moved around, gathering seat cushions to add to the makeshift bed, she couldn’t help the small groan of pain. As she had expected, her back was making her pay the price for the awkward movements earlier in the day.

“Bernie? What’s wrong? You’re in pain.”

“Oh it’s nothing, don’t worry. Just a bit of back ache.”

“Do you have any pain relief?”

“I do, but they make me drowsy so I don’t take them if I can help it.”

Serena sighed. “Bernie, it is night time. We are just about to go to sleep. Go and take the meds.” 

Bernie dutifully headed upstairs to retrieve her pain killers. Serena looked thoughtful for a moment before nipping into the kitchen. She then began to rearrange a couple of things in the living room.

Re-entering the room, Bernie was confused by the sight of Serena, clad in t-shirt and towel combo, moving the two dining chairs into the middle of the room. She swallowed hard and quickly looked away from the sight of Serena’s breasts swaying beneath the soft white material as she moved. 

“Okay, top off and sit facing the back of the chair.”

“I..what? I...”

“Come on, sit. The least I can do, when you’ve put your back out hefting me around, is to see if I can get some of those muscles unknotted. I’ve got some olive oil from the kitchen. You might smell a bit like a dressed salad by the time I’m done with you, but hopefully you’ll be a little more comfortable.”

Bernie blinked helplessly. Serena just imperiously waved a hand at the chair in front of her. Bernie took a deep breath, then obediently straddled the chair, facing away from Serena, and pulled her layers of thermals and jumper off over her head. She could hear Serena drag the other chair closer and sit. Although expecting it, Bernie still jumped a bit at the first touch of the hand on her back.

“It..it wasn’t moving you around that caused this, Serena. I twisted something when I was getting off the quad bike earlier. I’m not as flexible as I used to be, you see.”

“Hmmm… Anyway, your tattoo. Is it an army thing?” Serena tapped an oily finger on the crest tattooed on Bernie’s upper right arm. 

“Ah, yes. It’s the RAMC regimental insignia. _In Arduis Fidelis_. Faithful in adversity. The tattoo was the result of a _very_ drunken squad night out, celebrating a promotion. A couple of us ended up with the same tattoo. At least it’s tasteful though, and well executed.” 

“I’m sure it could have been a lot worse. I very nearly got an alcohol fuelled tattoo myself once, not so long ago. During an incredibly boozy 50th birthday celebration.”

“You strike me as even less the tattoo type than I am, if there is such thing as a type.”

“That would be Siân’s influence. Siân Kors and I have been friends since our university days, and one way or another, she has been the architect of most of the scrapes I’ve found myself in since. We were meant to be having a perfectly respectable meal out for my 50th but it somehow descended into cocktails and shots. There are worrying amounts of that day that I still can’t remember.”

“I think everyone needs that one friend who often gets them into a spot of bother, but who equally will be there to get them out of trouble too.” 

“That’s Siân alright. She’s seen me through so much. She tried to talk me out of my disastrous marriage, supported me through the divorce. Through... Through bereavement.” Serena drifted into silence a moment before mentally shaking herself.

“So, who’s yours? Your trouble-maker slash saviour?”

Bernie swallowed. “Alex.” she said quietly, “Mine was Alex.”

“Was?”

Bernie just shook her head. Serena cleared her throat.

“Anyway, as I said, this supposedly sedate meal, befitting a respectable 50 year old consultant surgeon, became a booze sodden piss up! I became a little indiscreet about a... A romantic liaison, shall we say and Siân got it into her head that I should celebrate both it and my half century by getting tattooed.”

“She thought you should get a tattoo to commemorate getting _laid_?”

“ _Bernie!_ ” Serena slapped Bernie’s toned bicep. “No! Not exactly. It was to commemorate my, how did Siân word it again? My bisexual revelation.”

Bernie glanced over her shoulder at Serena, eyebrows practically disappearing into her hairline.

“I see.”

“Hmph, yes well. I was giving a series of seminars at the Royal in London and they’d put me up in this rather nice little hotel in Stepney. I hit it off in the hotel bar with this lovely Australian lawyer who was in the UK for a couple of weeks on business. I showed her a few of the sights in the Capital and she showed me a side of myself I hadn’t realised existed. It was quite the eye opener, I can tell you.”

“I know.” said Bernie quietly.

“You do?”

“I was engaged. A perfectly nice bloke called Marcus. We were classmates at university. Friends. Well, I think I saw us mainly as drinking buddies I suppose, to be honest. He proposed and it seemed like the... I don't know... Like the right thing to do? The expected thing? So anyway, I accepted, with the caveat that I still set on joining the RAMC, engagement or not. Poor bloke, I dragged out that engagement for years. I found excuse after excuse to put off naming a date. It was Alex who made me realise why. It was alright for her, she joined up way after homosexuality was decriminalised in the military. She was out and proud from the start. When I began my Army career, you could have every single tiny aspect of your life scrutinised if there was even the tiniest hint of suspicion that you were gay. Anyway, Alex was an anaesthetist and was assigned to my unit. We became the best of friends. She basically kicked me up the arse, made me take the proverbial long, hard look at myself and told me a few home truths. I finally broke off the engagement and started to accept who I really was. I’m not entirely sure I’ll ever be participating in a..a Pride parade or anything, but I am more comfortable in my own skin now, where that is concerned at least.”

They both went quiet for a few minutes as Serena worked her way across Bernie’s back, digging her fingers into the tight muscle groups. 

“Anyway, what does your, what was it again? Your bisexual revolution, what’s it have to do with the drunken tattoo that never was?”

Serena laughed. “Bisexual revelation, not revolution! Well, Siân was determined that I should embrace my newly discovered bisexuality by getting the Bi Pride flag tattooed somewhere upon my person. It’s very pretty actually - pink, lavender and blue. Anyway, luckily for me, the tattoo studio she dragged me into was both professional and ethical and refused to tattoo a drunk, and particularly one who was so clearly unsure about the whole thing in the first place. So, in the end, we just went to another bar and got blindingly pissed!”

At that Serena patted Bernie on the back and reached for the dampened tea towel she had laid beside her earlier. She wiped the oil from her hands then swiped it over the other woman’s back and shoulders.

“Hopefully that has helped a bit.”

Bernie flexed her back and shoulders experimentally and Serena couldn’t take her eyes off the play of muscles beneath the expanse of pale, lightly freckled skin. 

“Oooh yes, that does feel a lot looser, thank you. Between your magic fingers, and the drugs, I feel great. Let’s go to bed shall we?” 

At that, Bernie stood up from the dining chair, settled herself on the cushions laid out in front of the fireplace and appeared to instantly fall asleep. Serena raised an eyebrow, and looking down at the half naked woman sprawled before her, wondered _exactly_ what drugs Bernie had taken!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which we meet ‘the girls’**

Bernie swam slowly from the depths of sleep towards the surface of wakefulness. She was currently drifting in the warm shallows of a light doze. This in itself was unusual. She usually woke literally in the blink of an eye, almost startled from sleep. As Bernie slowly awakened, three things simultaneously became apparent. Firstly, she was not alone. Secondly, there was a hand resting on her chest, perilously close to her breast, and thirdly, that she was cupping a very smooth, very pleasantly rounded and distinctly naked bum cheek! 

Slowly and carefully she removed her hand from Serena’s bottom, and lifted up the covers. Serena was naked from the waist down, while she was naked from the waist up! The crumpled towel against Serena’s lower legs was testament to the reason behind her semi nudity, but it didn’t explain why Bernie was topless. She glanced around hoping for answers and saw her thermal top and jumper tangled together on the back of the dining chair. 

The massage. 

The Tramadol, followed by the massage. 

When she had told Serena the night before that her painkillers made her drowsy, it wasn’t exactly the whole story. Tramadol also sometimes made her lightheaded and well, a bit stoned. There was a good reason why she tried to avoid taking them. 

There was a grumbling noise from the living room doorway.

“Breakfast time, Jason? Okay, I’m coming.” she whispered.

Bernie carefully slid out from beneath Serena’s hand, shivering when it brushed against her nipple. Pulling on her top, she glanced back at the sleeping figure. The weak morning light was making the silver in her hair sparkle and the sight actually took Bernie’s breath away. 

****

Serena was sitting up, wrapped in blankets when Bernie brought her in a cup of coffee a little later.

“Mmmm thank you, just what the doctor ordered.”

She took a sip from the mug and hummed in appreciation.  
“Where are you off to, all kitted out?” 

Bernie was wearing waterproofs and wellies.

“I’m going to check on the girls- on... On the chickens I mean.”

“The girls? How sweet, Bernie. What are their names?”

Bernie narrowed her eyes, not 100% sure if Serena was being sarcastic. “They don’t have names. They’re just ‘the girls’. I keep them for the eggs. I did have every intention of raising some as a regular meat source too, but I’ll be honest with you, I found it too upsetting and just couldn’t bring myself to do the deed. Some macho soldier eh?”

“So last night’s..” 

“Indeed, entirely homemade, and the veggies are homegrown, but the chicken came from the mainland.”

“Do you have a coc- Uh a..a..rooster?” Serena felt herself blushing furiously. God, what are you, 12 years old? she scolded herself. 

“No, I don't have a cockerel” Bernie smiled at Serena’s discomfort “You don’t need one for a laying flock. I did borrow one once and produced some chicks, but I would rather keep on getting rescue birds.”

“Rescue chickens? That’s a thing?”

“Yes, there’s a national charity that specialises in re-homing ex commercial hens. It’s the main reason I don’t really bother raising my own. It’s a bit like getting a dog from a pet shop when there are hundreds of beautiful pups in re-homing centres, begging for a new life.”

“How many chickens do you have? You must get a bit sick of eggs surely.”

“I have a dozen I raised myself and a dozen rescues. Some of my rescue ladies aren’t really laying anymore, but that’s okay. Retirement comes to us all sooner or later. If we’re lucky. As for the eggs, Jason and I do end up eating quite a few egg based meals, that’s for sure. However, for about a week before I plan a trip to the mainland, I save up most of what the girls produce because there’s a great little community group in town. Have you seen it? They have a fridge that anyone can help themselves from. If you have too much of something, you can donate, but if you’re in need, you can take whatever you want. I think it’s brilliant. Anyway, I’d better go and see what they’ve got for me today.”

Serena thought it very sweet to see the otherwise reserved woman so animated when talking about her chickens. 

****

For all Bernie was saving on diesel by keeping the main generator off, the secondary would only ever be shut off in dire emergency. It ran the fridge and chest freezer that were at the back of the barn, but also, very importantly, it kept the girls warm and comfortable. In fine weather, Bernie’s hens strutted their stuff out in the spacious outdoor enclosure with access to a large, straw filled section of the barn when they wished to be indoors. Some of the girls were fans of finding out of the way corners to lay, so it did sometimes make egg collection a bigger challenge but to Bernie, it was an enjoyable part of the daily routine. However, with the weather they had been having over the past couple of days, the girls were ‘confined to barracks’ as Bernie thought of it. The barracks in this case were equipped with heaters, lights, plus automatic feed and water dispensers. At the moment they were actually living with more creature comforts than the island’s human and canine inhabitants.  


“Good morning girls” Bernie made soft clucking sounds. 

Knowing Bernie would be scattering some of their favourite grains, the hens started to make their way towards her. 

“Sorry you’re all still stuck indoors ladies. The weather remains wild and wooly out there.” 

She wasn’t sure quite when she had started chatting away to her chickens, but she always found it somehow soothing. Hen therapy. 

“We had all sorts of drama after I saw you yesterday. Jason found a woman washed up on the beach. So we have a house guest, which is all very new. Her name is Serena and she is absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous.”

Having distributed the grain to the assembled hens, Bernie made her way over to the cozy nesting boxes where the bulk of the eggs should be. 

“I hope you’ve been busy girls, because we’re going to have an unexpected trip across the water quite soon, to take Serena home. I already think I’ll miss her when she goes. It’s actually been nice having someone to talk to who doesn’t have either four legs or feathers.” 

At this, Bernie shook her head in wonder. She had never been the most social person, even before in her old life, before her world came crashing down around her. There was just something about Serena though, that seemed to break through the walls she had built over the last couple of years. No, that wasn’t right. Serena hadn’t _broken_ through, it was as though she had waved a hand and an invisible door had just opened up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chicken Chat™️ was inspired by a conversation with Shirazkindofgirl, so she deserves some credit/blame ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which we learn more of Jason’s background**

“Weather is still on the inclement side then?” Quipped Serena as Bernie stepped through the kitchen door in a gust of wind and rain.

“Oh yes, it’s still blowing a gale out there I’m afraid. That smells delicious. You didn’t have to...”

“Don’t be silly, making breakfast is the least I could do. I had a poke around the kitchen, hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Did you find everything you needed?”

“There were plenty of eggs at least.” Serena winked at Bernie. “I’ve done scrambled eggs, mushrooms and bacon with toast. I hope that’s okay. Umm well, I don’t know if you’d want them, but I couldn’t find any baked beans.”

“How dare you! Never in a million years will you find a baked bean in my house, Serena Campbell. The very idea.” Bernie feigned outrage.

Serena laughed. “Not a fan? We _are_ in the minority you know. I hate the things with a passion too. I can’t even bear the smell. We’re clearly a match made in heaven!” Serena winked at the other woman.

Bernie blushed and turned away to wash her hands.

“I’ve er, I’ve cranked up the generator for a bit Serena. I thought after we..we eat, we can have a quick shower. Separately! Of course. Ah, you can have one and then... and then I can have one. Of my own….” She ran out of steam.

Serena raised an eyebrow at the flustered woman, and suppressed a smile. 

“A shower would be bliss. I feel absolutely filthy.”

With that, Serena carried the plates through to the other room. 

****

“So as your parents owned the island, did you spend much time here? Before moving here permanently?” Serena asked as they dug into their breakfast.

“We did spend the odd week up here when I was a kid. They came up as frequently as they could. I think, looking back, that it was difficult to coordinate the three of us coming up together. Dad was stationed all over the world, mum went with him whenever possible, and I was off at boarding school.”

“I see. Was that part of why you had to wait until you were, what was it, fifty years old to have a pet? Boarding school plus military family wouldn’t really even make a goldfish an option I would imagine, let alone anything cute and fluffy like the lovely Jason.”

At this, Jason’s ears twitched and he looked over at the table. He panted and gave a big doggy grin.

“You’re not cute and fluffy, are you lad? You’re a mighty and fierce guard dog!” said Bernie, with a smile.

Jason didn’t entirely back up Bernie’s claim, when he started to wag his long, plumed tail so hard that his whole bum started to wiggle. 

“He’s an overgrown puppy really, isn’t he?” chuckled Serena. 

“He genuinely is. And you’re right, boarding school, followed by university, and so on, a pet was just not an option. I don’t know what I’d have done without Jason over these last couple of years though, if I’m honest. After I was discharged from the hospital, and I was finally done with all the poking, prodding, bloody exercises and do-gooders sticking their noses in, I moved up here. I was sick of people. I felt, right at that point, that if I could have lived on this island and been completely self-sufficient, I would happily have never seen another human face again. Having Jason gave me the motivation to get out of bed every morning”

“Oh Bernie,” Serena reached across the table and covered the army medic’s warm, calloused hand with her own. “I know when things are looking dark, it’s all too easy to push everyone away.”

Serena’s hand on hers, the way it felt like her skin was on fire at the simple contact, made Bernie realise just how touch starved she was. And just how desperately attracted she was to the woman sitting in front of her. 

“I... I got Jason from a rehoming centre. They estimated he was about six months old at that point and he was already huge! I hadn’t really considered quite such a big dog, especially as I was a completely novice pet owner. He had been left at the centre because his previous owners lived in a one bedroom flat and didn’t have space for him. It would seem that it’s not uncommon for people to get a cute little puppy, then panic when they start to grow” 

“Idiots.” Serena muttered.

“Quite! Well, malamutes, being sizeable beasts, can apparently be difficult to rehome. They often have big personalities too. You haven’t seen Jason in ‘stroppy teenager’ mode yet. He is hilarious. So anyway, when I explained to the rescue centre where I live, they steered me toward his kennel, I fell immediately in love, and that was that.”

“Who wouldn’t fall for Jason? He has the perfect life with you here now though, so even with a difficult beginning for him, it’s worked out in the end..”

Bernie cast a fond look across at the dog. “He does take a bit of work, but it’s all worth it. If nothing else, I imagine I look ever so slight less eccentric talking to him than to myself! Anyway, to get back to your original question, no I didn’t spend much time here, but once my father retired, he and mum came up an awful lot. I think they actually stayed here about as much as they did in Hampshire.”

“So, Bernie as we’re currently using up the precious diesel, do you want first dibs on the shower? I can get these dishes washed up while you do.”

“You don’t need to do the dishes, you cooked after all. No, you go first, I’ll sort the kitchen. Come on, I’ll show you upstairs. The shower is a bit odd, so I’ll get it going for you.”

Bernie lead Serena up the narrow staircase. “This is my bedroom. I’ll leave you some fresh bits on the bed to change into. Your jeans are still quite damp, but your long johns and underwear are dry. I did give them a quick wash through by hand yesterday, so hopefully they won’t feel too horrible. Bathroom is here. Mum loved her bathroom, so it’s all quite fancy. I still don’t even know what some of the functions are.”

Serena looked into the shower stall. “Oh it looks very similar to the one I had installed back in my house in Holby, so I should be okay. I can show you how to use some of the best features if you want.” Serena threw Bernie a faux innocent glance.

“There are plenty of towels in the cupboard there. Help yourself to any of the toiletries and take as long as you like.” Bernie practically ran out of the door, choosing to pretend she hadn’t heard Serena’s last comment.

Returning downstairs to retrieve Serena’s dry clothes, Bernie silently berated herself. ‘Come on Wolfe, get a grip.’ Seeing her hand betraying a slight tremor as she reached out for the dry clothes on the airer tucked close to the kitchen range, she tried to compose herself. ‘It’s only underwear. You wear it yourself all the bloody time.’ Looking at the satin and lace that was hanging beside the more practical thermal garments, there was no escaping it. There were **no** similarities between Serena’s lingerie and her own no nonsense undies!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Serena and Bernie’s loathing of baked beans is my own, in case you hadn’t guessed!  
> In spite of Catherine tweeting today about eating cold beans straight from the tin, I still love her ❤️


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which Serena propositions Bernie.**

Three quarters of an hour later, Serena entered the kitchen, her hair still damp.

“I’m sorry I took so long in the shower Bernie. It just felt incredible to finally get cleaned up and I lost track of the time.”

“It’s quite alright. I did say to take as long as you needed. I’m sure it felt nice to wash the sea and salt off.”

“Mmmm you have no idea. I feel like a new woman.”

Serena’s low, purring hum of pleasure was too much for Bernie.

“Uuh, I made bread. Making bread. It’s proving. Err... I’ll go and shower now!”

With that, Bernie strode out of the room. Taking the narrow stairs two at a time, she locked herself in the bathroom, and standing, back to the door, slowly banged her head off the wooden panel. 

“Me make bread. Me use fire. For god’s sake woman, get a _fucking_ grip.”

Thank goodness Serena Campbell couldn’t read minds, because, for the entire 45 minutes she had been in the shower, Bernie’s imagination had been doing overtime. Serena, naked and soapy, a scant few metres away, separated by just a flight of stairs and a door.

****

Meanwhile, Serena surveyed the kitchen. It would seem that Bernie’s desire for bread making had taken precedence over the washing up. Oh well, freshly baked bread was more than worth doing a few dishes for. She pushed up her sleeves and got to work. Her mind wandered as she scrubbed at a saucepan. 

Boating disaster aside, she was surprised to realise that this was the most relaxed she had been in… Well since her life in Holby fell apart nearly two years ago. It couldn’t just be the isolation of the small island. Her new life wasn’t exactly a high pressured rat race. It was a far cry from the hospital politics, budget meetings, intricate surgeries and almost constant 14 plus hour days of old. 

Could it perhaps have a little something to do with the owner of the island? Serena found her incredibly attractive, who wouldn’t? Tall, slim, stunning, with an amazing bum, but more than that, the quiet, calm confidence she exuded was compelling. Apart from when Serena turned on the flirtatious charm of course, then Bernie was just an utterly adorable, stuttering mess. Serena knew she wanted to see a lot more of her new found friend, and had an idea of how she might just be able to make that happen.

****

Bernie reappeared just as Serena put away the last of the breakfast dishes, hair a fluffy riot of waves and, oh good god, wearing a pair of combats. Serena’s mind flashed back to her heated fantasy of the day before. 

“I was just going to do that Serena, but thank you. I’ll go and shut the generator back down now if you’re finished with the hot water?”

“Yes, I’m all done. I think the kettle should be close to boiling, if you want a cuppa?”

“Tea would be lovely, thanks. I feel like I’m being spoiled.”

“I’ve felt the same. I’ve loved the company too. You sometimes forget how nice it can be to have someone else around when you live alone.”

“Back in a minute.”

Serena took a deep breath. ‘Bernie Wolfe in combats should be illegal.’ she thought, ‘Now just keep those hormones under control for five bloody minutes. You cannot be panting over the woman when you’re putting a professional business proposal to her.’ 

By the time Bernie returned from the barn, Serena had two mugs of tea ready. 

“I wanted to have a word with you about an idea I’ve had, Bernie. It’s a proposition really, I suppose,”

Bernie’s mouth hung open for a moment. “A proposition? What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about the similarities of our situations. Both surgeons, both walked away from our previous lives, neither of us wanting to return to theatre. The main difference obviously, is that I’m still practicing medicine. I never dreamt I would be a GP. Actively fought against the prevailing attitude of the day that females in the medical profession would go into either paediatrics, obs and gynae or General Practice. I certainly don’t regret the path I took, but I do actually thoroughly enjoy being a GP.”

“Where does this proposition of yours come into play, Serena?” Bernie was confused.

“Are you still licensed to practice in the UK?”

“I should be, as far as I know. I can’t see why I wouldn’t.”

“Okay, my idea, proposal, call it what you will, is that we make sure your license is up to date. We get you revalidated if we need to, and then you dip your toes back into medicine with a locum shift or two with me, more obviously, if you like it. You can stay with me when you’re on the mainland, I have a spare room and there’s loads of space. I have a decent back garden for Jason, and there’s a big park just around the corner.”

“Serena, I-”

“It’s not all snotty noses and bunions either.” Serena cut in. “I know it’s hardly trauma surgery, or vascular surgery for that matter, but it is important work. There’s no A&E for miles, so we’re often the first port of call for anything and everything medical.”

“Serena. Can I possibly get a word in please?”

“Sorry. Sorry. I got a bit carried away.” she said sheepishly.

“This is all out of the blue, but I’m not completely adverse to the idea, surprisingly. I’d need to have a good hard think about it. You have to understand that not only would I be going from surgery to general practice, but from the military to the NHS. Two very different beasts, I’m sure. I will admit though, that recently the days have started to drag somewhat. I had considered volunteering at that community project I was talking about earlier, but it didn’t seem too practical with the travel taken into account. Maybe if I was sometimes staying in town I could do that. Do you have a berth I could dock my boat in?” 

Serena raised an eyebrow as Bernie paused for a second and thought about what she had just said before blushing hotly at the implied double meaning. 

Serena snorted, and then her face dropped. “Oh bugger! I’m going to have to buy a new bloody boat!” 

Their eyes met and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Do you feel like you did the right thing? Running away up here?” Serena asked after they had both stopped laughing. “Personally I felt incredibly guilty at first, but I think it was the right thing for me, the complete change of pace and of scenery.”

“It was probably easier for me.” Bernie replied. “I had no real roots anywhere. Plus I needed the solitude, Serena. Odd really, when you consider I spent my school days in dormitories, 25 years of Army life in barracks, base housing and bloody tents, rarely more than a few feet from other people. So yes, I definitely feel that I did the right thing. Maybe now though, it’s time to poke my head back out of my shell. It helps that I have a friend now, to encourage that.” 

Bernie smiled shyly across at Serena, who beamed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I realise that Serena’s proposition might not have been _quite_ what you were hoping for... 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which Serena and Bernie share more of their past.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in lovelies, you’re in for some more canon based angst I’m afraid.

“When we were talking before Bernie, about your childhood, you didn’t mention any siblings. You’re an only child?” asked Serena.

“I am, and I’m also the only child of two only children. I don’t really think they were cut out to have kids in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t terrible parents or anything, it’s just they were always so wrapped up in each other. It felt like there wasn’t much left over for me, never mind more children. It was no great surprise, after Mum passed away, that Father followed within weeks.”

“That must have been hard, losing then so close together.”

“Yes, it was, but he was so unhappy without her. It must be amazing to love someone so deeply. So anyway, I’m the end of the line. The last Wolfe in the pack as Alex used to say. She was the sibling I never had. I think we were as close as any sisters. Alex was good for me, wouldn’t let me get away with a thing, she would never let me retreat too far back inside my shell.”

“What happened, Bernie? To Alex? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Bernie twisted her fingers together, anxiously.

“The IED happened. Alex must have dragged me out of the jeep and immobilised me. She radioed for help and then collapsed. I knew nothing about it, was unconscious the whole time. By the time the medics got to us she was gone. Massive internal bleeding. I didn’t find out until I came out of surgery back in England. It almost made me wish that Oliver Valentine hadn’t got my heart restarted. Alex would have given me such a boot up the arse for that kind of attitude though, so I shelved the self pity and got on with learning to walk again”

There was a long silence. 

“What about you Serena? Any brothers and sisters?”

“No, I’m in the same boat. An only child of only children. The buck stops with me. My dad passed away when I was 21. He was amazing. He constantly ran interference for me with my mum. She did _not_ want me to become a doctor even though it was the only thing I ever wanted to do. Dad and I conspired together to get me into medicine at university, rather than the arts courses she wanted for me. He even made a provision in his will to make sure I would be financially taken care of throughout the length of my medical training. He knew only too well that she might try to manipulate me via the purse strings. I always had a difficult relationship with Mum. Nothing I ever did seemed to be good enough for her. About four years ago she had a series of strokes and then was diagnosed with vascular dementia, so her passing was difficult, but she didn’t really recognise me by the end.” 

“Both my parents went quickly. I don’t know which is harder really. A sudden passing is a shock, but to see someone you love deteriorate in front of you?” Bernie shook her head.

“When... Yesterday... When you asked about husband and kids. I said no, but I did used to have a child. A daughter, Elinor.” Serena said, quietly.

“Used to? Oh no Serena, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Once upon a time, I was a very ambitious woman. You know what it’s like. As a woman in medicine, and I’m sure the same goes for the military too, you have to work twice as hard to go half as far. I was determined I wasn’t going to let a bunch of old boys network, golfing cronies, funny handshakes and old school ties hold me back. I even went to Harvard and earned an MBA to help me compete. Anyway, when I divorced Edward, in spite of it being due to him being an alcoholic and serial shagger, Elinor sided with him. He decided he was going to be the ‘fun’ parent, and let her run riot and of course, I was the disciplinarian, always at work, too busy for her and so on. I’m sure you get the picture. Fast forward past teenage drinking, experiments with ecstasy, multiple near misses with expulsion from school, skipping from one university course to another until she finally settled on journalism. Cue her deciding to shadow me at work and write an article about the high-flying deputy CEO of Holby City Hospital. Cue us having a blazing row, her storming off to her car and nearly running me over, before smashing into a lamppost.”

“My god, Serena!” 

Serena jumped a little, seeming to have almost forgotten Bernie was there.

“We got her out of the car, and Jasmine, one of my F1s, checked her over and cleaned up the minor head wound, while I tried to clean up the rest of whole bloody mess. While I was ringing round trying to discreetly get the car towed, arrange to get the lamppost fixed, talk security out of calling the police to the scene and all the rest of it, my daughter, my only child, collapsed with an extradural haemorrhage. They tried to save her, of course they did, but my beautiful girl was dead. I blamed Jasmine for not spotting behavioural changes, for not telling me she suspected Elinor was high, oh for just about everything and my _god_ , I was a bitch. I was such an unspeakable bitch. I’m ashamed to say I treated her appallingly. Under the guise of teaching and mentoring, all I was really doing was bullying her. I wasn’t sleeping, I was drinking too much and everything just came to a head. I came so close to hitting the girl and had to be physically restrained. So I took a sabbatical. I needed to take the time to mourn properly, to get some professional help and simply get some distance from the hospital.” 

“Clearly the sabbatical transformed into a resignation though. The shootings?” asked Bernie gently.

“They were the final straw. Not too long before I lost Elinor, there had been a lovely, brilliant young doctor, Arthur. We lost him to cancer. After I left, Jasmine was killed in some kind of accidental stabbing, so I never got the chance to really make my peace with her and apologise. Finally, there were the shootings. Oliver Valentine, who may never be able to practice medicine again, and Raf... My beautiful Raf. The kindest, sweetest man you could ever hope to meet, as well as being a first class doctor. Henrik contacted me, asked me to go back. He wasn’t coping well, it was his son after all. I just couldn’t, Bernie. I felt terribly guilty too, because Henrik Hanssen had done so much for me. I just couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to attend Raf’s funeral or his memorial. I couldn’t bear to even _think_ about setting foot back inside that building. So I said no and finally, officially, handed in my resignation. I sold my house, bought the Logan Street practice and moved up here.”

Without conscious thought, Bernie swiftly moved across the hearth, knelt and wrapped her arms around Serena, pulling her into a hug. 

“We’re a pair of walking disaster areas Serena, aren’t we? I think we should come with a hazard warning.”

“Do you know, that’s the first time I’ve talked about everything in one go like that? I talked to a therapist about things, of course, but just spilling the whole thing out feels rather cathartic.” 

“Sometimes talking helps. And that’s coming from me!” 

Serena gave a watery, slightly shaky laugh. 

After a couple of minutes silence, Serena pulled back slightly from the embrace.  
Bernie’s eyes flitted across Serena’s face. Without allowing herself pause to think, she cradled the back of Serena’s head and gently pulled her forward into a slow kiss.  
She then leaned backwards, suddenly terrified that Serena would think she had taken advantage of the situation.

“S-Serena… I-“

But before she could say anything further, Serena surged forward and pressed their lips together again, pulling Bernie tighter into her arms. At the first sweep of Serena’s tongue against her lips, Bernie groaned and deepened the kiss. She allowed her fingertips to gently trace along Serena’s cheekbone, down her jaw and along her slender neck. She jumped as Serena’s cool fingers crept under her jumper and began caressing the heated skin of her back and sides. 

Bernie drew back slightly from the kisses to rest her forehead against Serena’s. 

“I..I... As much as I want this to carry on Serena...”

“No, no don’t say anything Bernie. I’ve been desperately wanting to kiss you since yesterday. Please don’t...”

“No my darling Serena, no.” Bernie cupped Serena’s flushed face, running her thumbs reverently across the smooth skin of her cheeks. 

“I was just going to ask if we can move this somewhere a little more comfortable. Because my knees are fucking killing me!”

They looked at each other and both burst out laughing.

“Goodness me Berenice! You do know how to sweet talk a lady, now don’t you.”

“Why do you think they called me ‘Silver Tongue’ Wolfe?”

At that, Serena threw her a heated glance. “Well I hope to find that out for myself, imminently.”

Bracing herself on the arm of the chair, Bernie levered herself to her feet and drew Serena up, out of the chair towards her. 

Wrapping her arms around the other woman and running her fingers through silky hair, Bernie whispered “Are you sure about this Serena?”

“Surer than I’ve been about anything in a long, long time. Now will you please take me to bed?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which... In which... Our ladies make sweet, sweet love!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is, the final chapter. Thank you everyone who has come along for the ride ❤️
> 
> Note the rating change, there’s some smut ahead!

Bernie looked into Serena’s sparkling brown eyes and saw no sign of doubt in their warm depths.

“God, Serena, you’re so beautiful.” Bernie brought their mouths together in another heated kiss. “You deserve better than that for our first time together though.” she said, gesturing toward the cushions laid out on the hearth rug in front of them. “I think we’d just be too cold in the bedroom. Unless we piled all the blankets on us. But I want to see you, so that’s no good really. Maybe we should wait. We can wait and do this properly. I should romance you properly...”

“Bernie? _Bernie!_ Calm down. If you want to wait, we can wait as long as you like. I don’t want to rush you into anything. If you _are_ ready however, what's more perfect, more _romantic_ than an open fire, soft pillows and the shadows of the flames dancing across naked skin?”

“I am ready, and I want this so much. It’s just that you, well you deserve so much better, you should have champagne, roses and four poster beds.”

“We can do something like that at any time in the future, but right now my darling Bernie…” Serena took Bernie’s hand in her own, gently kissed the fingertips, then guided it beneath the waistband of her long johns, and towards her heated centre. “Does that feel like a woman who really wants to wait any longer?”

“Serena. Oh, you’re so…” Bernie pulled her hand away and swiped her tongue across the pads of her wet fingers. “You’re delicious.”

Serena’s eyes darkened and she drew away from Bernie to lay down on the improvised fireside bed. “Come on, why don’t you join me down here.”

Bernie knelt down and tentatively stroked upwards, under the cotton of Serena’s t-shirt, across the soft skin of her stomach, reaching toward the satin and lace of her bra. Instead, her trembling fingers found a warm, naked breast. 

“Serena! Y..you... you’re not...”

“I thought it would save time.” 

“You mean you…”

“I hoped so Bernie. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a strong, immediate attraction towards anyone before and I hoped desperately that it was returned.”

“Oh god Serena, it is! It is returned. I think from the very moment I heard your voice, I was lost.”

Bernie swept a gentle thumb over the peak of Serena’s breast and felt the nipple tighten in response. She pulled the shirt off over Serena’s head then replaced her hand with her mouth. Serena tangled her fingers in the silky blonde hair and arched into the touch.

“Bernie, I think we’re both wearing a few too many clothes, don’t you?” Serena purred. “I want to see you.”

Bernie sat up and reached for the hem of her top, then hesitated. “I’m… I’ve got scars.”

“Do you think that would bother me? Of course it doesn’t, you’re gorgeous. Besides, did you forget exactly how you put yourself to bed last night?” Serena grinned wickedly. “I’ve already had a preview.”

“Do you remember how you awoke this morning? I had a small preview of my own.”

“Bernie, you stripped me naked as soon as you met me. You’ve had the full show!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Serena. I think the show is _just_ about to begin.”

With that, Bernie yanked off her top and threw it aside. She curled her fingers into Serena’s waistband. “May I?”

“Oh yes, you most definitely may.”

Bernie stripped off Serena’s last layer and just sat back on her heels and gazed at the woman laid in front of her. “You take my breath away. You’re perfect.”

“And you’re overdressed.”

Bernie scrambled out of the rest of her clothes and lay down beside Serena, who immediately began trailing kisses along her jaw, towards her ear. Bernie gasped as Serena sucked on her earlobe, then kissed her way down Bernie’s slender neck. She left a trail of burning kisses across Bernie's clavicles and traced her tongue down the vertical line of scar tissue that divided her chest. Here was the reminder of just how close Bernie had come to death. The thought that she might never have had the chance to meet her army medic filled Serena with momentary horror. 

Serena feathered her fingers along the toned muscles of Bernie’s arms. “When you were talking yesterday about getting me back to the house on your quad bike, all I could think about was you lifting me up in your strong arms. How it was a crying shame that I wasn’t awake to experience it. I may even have fantasised about it just a little last night, when you were lying half naked next to me.” Serena whispered huskily in Bernie’s ear. 

She bit lightly at the juncture of Bernie’s neck and licked a hot trail down her shoulder to the tattoo on her upper arm. “This was the icing on the cake, I have to admit.” she murmured, tracing her tongue over the military insignia. “It never occurred to me before, how sexy tattoos could be. Maybe they just need to be on the right person. Berenice Wolfe, you are exquisite.” breathed Serena, before taking one of the blonde’s nipples into her eager mouth while caressing the other with her hand.

“S..s.. Oh.. Serena, you're driving me crazy. Please. I need...”

Serena let her hand drift downwards, running her fingers delicately across Bernie's smooth skin, feeling taut stomach muscles flutter beneath her questing fingertips.

“What do you need? Show me.”

At that, Bernie grasped Serena's wrist and pressed her fingers into the aching damp heat between her legs.

“I need you, Serena. Only you.” Bernie moaned.

Serena allowed her fingers to drift across Bernie's eager wet centre, gathering some of the moisture, before bringing her hand up to her mouth for a taste. “Mmm, you taste so good Bernie.” she purred in the other woman's ear. Bernie could only whimper helplessly at the sight of Serena savouring her wetness.

“P-please… Suh...Suh… Serena, touch me please, I can't…” Bernie panted frantically.

With one last lick of a fingertip, Serena took pity on the blonde, moving her hand slowly back downward, stroking and caressing her way slowly back to her goal. 

“Tell me, Bernie. What do you want?” Serena brushed her fingers over damp curls.

“Oh Serena, fuck me. Please!”

“My pleasure.” At that, Serena sucked Bernie's nipple back into her mouth, and stroked down across the heated, slick flesh to thrust two fingers inside. She began a steady rhythm as Bernie moved against her, faster and faster. A single brush of a thumb against her clit and Bernie came apart in Serena's arms.

Serena held her tightly and pressed soothing kisses to Bernie’s temple as she trembled and gasped through her orgasm. 

“Oh… That was… I’ve never… never felt... My god Serena, you’re amazing.” Bernie groaned against Serena’s throat before pulling her into a hotly passionate kiss.

“You are a goddess Serena, and I intend to worship every inch of you.”

Shifting position to straddle Serena, Bernie leaned forward and began to comb her fingers through Serena’s soft hair whilst raining the lightest butterfly kisses across her brow, eyelids and cheekbones. “You. Are. The. Most. Beautiful. Amazing. Sexy. Beautiful. ” Each word was interspersed with a delicate kiss.

“You already said beautiful!” Serena breathed.

“I know. I will never be able to say it enough. You are beautiful. You’re breathtaking, stunning, gorgeous.” 

Bernie kissed her way slowly down Serena’s neck and chest, then almost reverently cupped Serena’s breasts. “You’re magnificent.” Bernie murmured, teasing around Serena’s nipples with tongue and fingertips. She suddenly sucked strongly on a pale pink peak, making her arch and cry out. 

“Oh yes! Just… Oh don’t stop.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” Bernie mumbled, her mouth full. One hand was mirroring her actions on Serena's other sensitive nipple, the other stroking restlessly up and down as much of Serena's satiny skin as she could reach.

“On…on s..se..second th… Oh my god, on second thoughts. I don’t think I…I can wait much longer Bernie. Please!” 

Bernie released Serena’s nipple with an audible ‘pop’ and began to kiss and lick her way downwards, pausing to swirl her tongue in Serena's navel, making her squirm. She parted Serena’s thighs and settled between them. Breathing in the scent of Serena’s arousal, Bernie hummed in anticipation and buried her nose in Serena's luscious bush.

“Oh, this is going to be delicious.” She parted the damp curls and drank Serena in. 

“Oh, Major Wolfe!” 

Bernie looked up, along the curves and dips of Serena’s body at her flushed face. 

“Really, Serena?”

“I can’t help it if the image of you in camouflage popped into my head.” Serena gasped.

“If that works so well for you, remind me to find you a photo of me in my dress blues.” 

Bernie gave Serena another heated glance before returning to her very pleasurable task. She teased and circled around Serena's clit, deliberately avoiding the most sensitive area. Serena's hips moved restlessly as she sought the touch she craved. Finally Bernie took pity on her whimpering lover and rapidly danced the tip of her tongue over Serena's clit before sucking it into her mouth and simultaneously curling two fingers inside Serena’s tight entrance.

Serena arched sharply upwards with a hoarse cry and buried her hands in Bernie's hair. Slumping back down against the cushions, Serena could merely lay there, trying to get her breath back, momentarily unable to form a coherent thought.

Bernie moved up next to her, covered their sweaty bodies with a soft, fleecy blanket and just smiled with the pure joy she felt at holding Serena Campbell in her arms.

****

Serena awoke the next morning to watery sunlight streaming through the window, stretched luxuriously and reached out for Bernie, only to find an empty space beside her. She sat up, to see the blonde coming in from the kitchen, clutching two steaming, fragrant mugs.

“Mmm coffee. You’re an angel.” she reached out with greedy hands for her morning caffeine.

“I was just checking on the weather. It looks like we’ll be able to get you back to the mainland today. The storm front has finally moved on.”

Serena frowned and leaned back to peer at the clock on the mantelpiece.

“It’s nearly 10 o’clock.”

“It is, I never usually sleep anywhere near this late.” Bernie looked positively smug.

“Well, it’s not as though we actually did much sleeping, now is it, darling?” Serena said, with a beatific smile. “I’m a bit turned around, what day is it? Is it Friday?”

“It is indeed.”

“Huh. You know by the time we got ready, got your boat in the water and travelled across to the mainland it would be quite late in the day.”

“True.”

“Far too late to run afternoon surgery.”

“I would imagine so, yes.”

“What’s the hurry then?”

With that, Serena put down her mug and reached out to guide Bernie back down into her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest chapter for me to write as creating smut definitely didn’t come naturally.
> 
> Thank you so much to Wonko and Shirazkindofgirl who offered support, bounced ideas around and reassured me. You were both brilliant ❤️


End file.
